


Let Your Heart Be Light

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-02 11:30:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5246702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the holidays, and for once, Jason comes home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Your Heart Be Light

**Author's Note:**

> a winter holidays 2014 tumblr prompt
> 
> You know when you’re really upset or stressed, and all you want is your own house or your family/loved ones and that’s all you can think about? Yeah, that’s what Jason did here, I don’t know if I got that across well. He kind of freaks because he doesn’t want them to know he misses/loves them etc. Damian butted in when he did because he and Bruce have had many talks about him telling his children exactly what he’s feeling, and no more beating around the bush.
> 
> (Also, Jason had been asked to come back for the holidays, like every year, just chose not to reply. But most of them, like Dick and Alfred and Barbara, still buy Jason gifts every year and put them under the tree. And Alfred wasn’t lying when he says they all really hoped he would show up anyway.)
> 
> This takes place on December 23rd or 24th, and they spend the night talking, laughing and drinking Alfred’s eggnog. Also, at least one of the others go back to the hospital with Jason in the morning, and the kid ends up surviving.

It’d been a long month. A long _year_. More good than bad, more losses than gains. Just yesterday he and the Outlaws didn’t get there fast enough, and people got hurt. A _lot_ of people got hurt. Some were probably even going to die.

And maybe that was the straw the broke the camel’s back. Maybe he’d hit his limit then, watching the nurses in the hospital perform CPR on a four-year-old little boy for the third time in ninety minutes. Or maybe it was after, as the little boy’s mother sobbed into Jason’s shoulder, unable to watch her baby – whom she said was called Dante – be put on a ventilator and induced into a coma.

But that didn’t explain anything. That didn’t explain why he gave Ms. Amendez his phone number and said he was just stepping out for some fresh air. That didn’t explain his lost time of about thirty minutes. That didn’t explain how he ended up over the fence and outside the front door of Wayne Manor.

The place wasn’t decorated much; Bruce was never one for it. Just a wreath on the door, matching the two on the front gates. To anyone else, the place would look dead. Dark and covered in snow. Probably uninhabited.

But he knew better. He knew a man, his son and his butler lived here, at least. He knew the man had older adopted children who just never found a reason to leave.

_Knock, knock, knock!_

Jason blinked. He was staring out across the snowy yard, wondering why he didn’t see any paw prints from his youngest brother’s dog trailing through the white powder, when he heard the echoed sounds. Slowly, he turned back to the door, found his own arm stretched out, his gloved knuckles resting against the aged wood next to the wreath.

He jerked his hand back. _Did I…?_

_Click…creak… swish…_

Too late.

Warm light flooded outwards as the door opened to reveal Alfred, looking poised and professional, the question of ‘how may I help you?’ clearly prepared on his tongue. He barely got the first syllable out before recognition filtered onto his face, almost instantly overtaken by surprise.

“J…Jason?” Alfred breathed, seemingly unable to believe his own eyes. Jason stared back with equal shock. This wasn’t…he didn’t mean to…he doesn’t know _why_ he…

Quickly he tried to recover, turning his own gaping mouth into a wide grin. “Surprised you, didn’t I, Alfie?”

Much like Jason, Alfred tried to hide his own surprise. “Of course not. We were expecting you.”

Jason snorted. “You were not.”

Alfred pressed his lips together, giving a small smile that looked like it wanted to explode as he whispered, “Well…we were _hoping_.”

Jason’s grin waned slightly as he looked down at his boots. “You never give up on me, do you, Al?”

Alfred opened his mouth to respond when suddenly Tim appeared in the foyer behind him. Tim jolted to a stop, blinking at Jason blankly. He didn’t look surprised or angry or happy. He didn’t look…well, _anything_. Jason narrowed his eyes, already feeling a harsh comment bubbling up inside.

Suddenly Tim turned back to the door he’d just appeared out of. “Hey, Steph? Can you and Babs make another one of those drinks?”

“Why?” Stephanie’s voice sounded. “Bruce already said we’re not allowed to make one for Damian’s pets.”

“No, I know.” Tim droned. “I mean…we miscounted.” He glanced back at Jason with a slight grin. “We’re short one.”

Jason heard the exasperated sigh of their blonde friend, followed by the sounds of a fridge opening and closing, and the clinks of a glass being placed on the counter.

“Well, come on, then.” Tim said definitively, waving Jason in. “You weren’t planning on standing on the front porch all night, were you? It’s cold out there, in case you didn’t know.”

Jason rolled his eyes as Alfred opened the door wider and stepped back. Tentatively, he stepped inside, brushing some snowflakes from his coat.

“Shoes off, as always, sir.” Alfred scolded. “You haven’t been away _that_ long.”

Jason did as he was told, slipping his boots off as Alfred tugged his jacket off. He slowly walked forward then, to where Tim was waiting for him. As he approached, Tim’s face seemed to brighten. “…What?”

“Nothing.” Tim shrugged, leading the way down the hall. “It’s…just good to see you. Especially today. Glad you could make it back.”

Jason didn’t respond, suddenly feeling uncomfortable and out of place. This was a bad idea. He shouldn’t be here. He should turn around, run back to the hospital, stay with Dante and his mother, go find those dirt bags who hurt them. Anything but be here, anything but be seen by these people, by his-

“We have a visitor,” Tim announced as they stepped into the family room. Jason just barely stopped himself from running into the younger man’s back. “Look who Alfred found on the front porch.”

Dick was at the tree, ornaments in both hands, with a terrible case of hat hair. The hat in question, it seemed, had been plopped haphazardly on Damian’s head. The child was lying on the floor by the lit fire, his dog next to him, and Cassandra – in a matching Santa hat – across from him. There was a sketchbook between them, with Damian scribbling away as Cassandra watched with amusement. Bruce was on the sofa, his son’s cat perched royally on his lap, watching the scene before him as he sipped at a steaming mug.

And at Tim’s announcement all four of them turned and looked.

For a beat, no one moved, no one said anything. Their faces were blank. The moment seemed to stretch forever, and Jason felt the urge to bolt rising, threatening to spill over. He even went so far as to take a step back.

But just like that, the moment broke. Dick let loose a blinding grin as he stepped away from the tree and dropped the ornaments on the couch. Cassandra’s was smaller, but matched her elder brother’s in warmth as she sat up. Damian’s face relaxed and he placed his pencil down, simultaneously grabbing at Titus’s collar to stop him from jumping at Jason in excitement.

“Jason!” Dick exclaimed, practically flying across the room. Tim expertly stepped out of the way, plopping to the floor next to Damian and Cassandra. Dick latched onto Jason’s elbows, shaking his arms slightly. “You’re here!”

“Thanks for stating the obvious, Dickie.” Jason laughed as Dick rubbed at his hair.

“I’m glad,” Dick said tenderly, in an echo of Tim’s earlier sentiments. “We’re _all_ glad.”

Cassandra nodded silently, but feverishly. Damian just shrugged nonchalantly.

“A little help?” Barbara suddenly called from the kitchen. “Steph and I can only carry so many mugs, you know!”

“Coming!” Dick returned, giving Jason a gently slap against the cheek before ducking around him. As he did, Jason noticed Bruce gently placing the cat and his drink on the ground and standing. He also noticed his other three siblings turn back to Damian’s sketchbook, giving them as much privacy as they could without making it obvious.

Bruce approached slowly, his stoic face looking relieved, if anything. “Leslie called.” He said, in lieu of an actual greeting. “Told me what happened.”

“Yeah.” Jason grunted. Then he sighed, closing his eyes. “…yeah. It’s, uh…been a bad day.”

“You did what you could, Jason. No one could ask for anything more.” Bruce swore, putting a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “I’m just glad you made it out alive, too.”

Jason just nodded distractedly.

“Leslie also said she told Ms. Amendez that she forced you to go home, get some rest.” Bruce continued. “That you’ll be back tomorrow morning, after Dante’s surgery.”

Jason’s head shot up. “Surgery?”

“The blood transfusions are starting to work. He’s stable enough to go into surgery to remove the bullet.” Bruce explained. “He went in just after you left. Leslie believes the prognosis is good.”

“But…but Ms. Amendez, she can’t…she told me she…” Jason fumbled. “Unless… _you_ …”

“I’ll handle the payment, don’t worry. For them and the other victims of the attack.” Bruce said, taking hold of Jason’s arm with his other hand as Jason’s shoulders eased. Without warning, Bruce pulled him forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Jason’s torso. “You did good, son. And I…I’m…”

“Father…” Damian muttered in warning.

“And I’m _proud of you_.” Bruce finished. Jason didn’t fight the embrace, though didn’t return it either. He watched as Cassandra continued to smile, as Tim turned to Damian and flipped the white fluff at the end of his hat over his face. He felt Bruce tense his hold, kiss his temple as he whispered. “Thanks for coming home.”

“I…I guess I needed a little bit of a break. Bit of time away from the real world. No better place to do it than here, right? And…what can I say, I guess I’m a bit of a sucker for family holidays.” Jason admitted, pulling away. He looked up at Bruce with a pleased, but sly, smirk. “Merry Christmas, old man.”

Bruce chuckled, glancing over Jason’s head momentarily as Alfred and the others appeared in the corridor. “Merry Christmas, Jason.”

Dick came between them, shoving one of three mugs into Jason’s hand, before flitting over and giving the other two to Tim and Damian. He then sat on the sofa, nodding a thanks as Barbara handed him a new cup. Alfred passed one to Bruce before sitting in his own chair next to the sofa, and Stephanie joined the group on the floor, laughing as Damian’s cat sat on his sketchbook.

“And Merry Christmas to you too, you little shit stains.” Jason drawled, ignoring Alfred’s slight glare as he took a gulp of the spiced eggnog – an Alfred Pennyworth specialty – and flopped down on the couch next to Dick. “Hope you losers got me something good this year.”

“And that goes _double_ for you,” Barbara hummed, noticing Bruce lean against the wall at the entryway, watching all of them with a fond smile. “After all, you _have_ missed the last two or three Christmases. Gotta make up for that time somehow.”

“Of course, Red. And I got you the best present anyone could ever ask for.” Jason spread his arms out in front of him. “I got you… _me_.”

Most of the room devolved into laughter as Dick slung an arm around Jason’s shoulders. Like Bruce did moments before, Dick leaned over, kissing at Jason’s forehead. Jason recoiled, but only halfheartedly, even as Tim and Stephanie cooed. After the light peck, Dick kept his cheek pressed against Jason’s, voice mockingly sweet as he proclaimed, “Ah, it’s just what we’ve _always_ wanted!”


End file.
